


Seasons

by Caelidra



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: F/M, reader is a tree nymph
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-07
Updated: 2016-03-07
Packaged: 2018-05-25 06:45:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6184753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caelidra/pseuds/Caelidra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>FRom a prompt on tumblr: "Imagine being a magical woodland witch or something... imagine a young ford finding you or something and being interested in you and vice versa. Imagine him writing about you in his journal. Imagine you being in love with each other. Imagine that."<br/>Probably way more feels-inducing that the prompter was looking for but YOU GET WHAT YOU GET!!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Seasons

It was spring when you first met him.

New growth was sprouting along the lengths of your Tree-Self’s dangling branches as you blossomed forth to meet the new warmth of the season, feeling as if you were lazily stretching after a satisfying slumber. You were leaning against your own trunk, dangling the feet of your Nymph-Self in the chilly creek that flowed close to your roots, when he discovered you. And quite enthusiastically at that, his sudden exclamation startling you enough that you folded yourself back under your bark, disappearing seamlessly. It took him some time to coax you back out, but his persistence won out in the end. Despite first impressions, he was actually very pleasant company, if a bit blunt with his questions. When he called you beautiful with such sincerity, the budding catkins on your branches burst out in a rustling cascade. The look of awe on his face was worth the embarrassment.

It was summer when you realized you loved him.

He had been visiting you at least once a week for a very long time, at least by human standards. The first few times were mostly filled with questions, starting with you and your kind, then branching out into similar creatures and those you’ve seen in the area you could observe from your grove. After a while he ran out of things to ask you. But instead of losing interest as you expected, he kept coming, simply making conversation and enjoying your company. The way his face lit up when he describes a new creature he had discovered make you feel warm down to your roots/toes, his deep laughter sending a fluttering in your chest and ruffling your leaves. You made him a bracelet out of thin strips of your bark, braided in an elaborate pattern so old even you could not recall the meaning beyond it significance as a token of affection. When you missed him all you had to do was focus your magic on thoughts of him, and sure enough you’d feel the faint pulse of his heart brush against you.

It was fall when something changed in him.

At first you thought it was your imagination. He wasn’t visiting as often because he was just busy. The weird mood swings were just a result of exhaustion. That sinister gleam in his eyes was just a trick of the light. But you could only stay in denial for so long. You could feel it in him, spreading like root rot, and it made you feel sick in turn. The restless itching you felt was more than your leaves drying out in preparation of their gentle tumble to the ground. No, this crawling feeling under your skin/bark was from the eyes of that THING inside of him watching you, twisting this human you had come to love so much. When he stopped coming altogether you weren’t sure if the feeling inside you was relief or sorrow.

It was winter when you lost him.

You knew it was foolish, that you should just let go. Humans were so short lived you would have lost him anyway, why mourn. But as you sat nestled within yourself in your drowsy winter haze you could not help reaching out for him, worried at how frequently his heart beat at a frantic pace. Bound to your roots, you could not go to him, and it was tearing you apart. You spent days at a time feeling his pulse flutter against your braid, taking some small comfort that he still wore it despite everything that he must surely be going through. But one night, dark and bitterly cold, you feel him vanish. It he had merely taken the bracelet off it would be one thing, but you felt it cease to exist at the same moment you lost the feeling of his heart, and yours shattered. You did not leave your Tree-Self that spring. Or the next. Why bother when that smile would not be there to greet you.

It was summer when you once again felt him.

And after three decades of being dead to the world, you bloomed


End file.
